


a part of you

by kianne



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, I'm sure this literal exact same fic has already been written 100 times, M/M, Tenderness, absolutely toothrotting fluff, but it's not been written by me yet so suck it up bitches!!!, it's about the yearning, thats literally all this is and i wont be sorry about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 16:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20854703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kianne/pseuds/kianne
Summary: “It suits you,” Aziraphale murmured, breath tickling the soft hairs on the back of Crowley’s hand, “You should keep it.”“You’d miss it,” Crowley protested weakly.Based on that one comic of Crowley stealing Aziraphale's ring, you know the one.





	a part of you

Aziraphale’s fingers were shorter and wider pressed against Crowley’s, but softer, like his skin was made of silk. Crowley trailed the pads of his fingers across his palm, slotted their fingers together and unslotted them, applied pressure gently to the tips until they bent backwards slightly, then let go and watched them spring back. Crowley clicked his own fingers quickly, the slight stiffness in Aziraphale’s making his own ache. Aziraphale huffed quietly next to him and awkwardly turned a page one handed. He always hated when Crowley clicked his joints, so Crowley made sure to do it loudly within earshot often. 

He continued his exploration of Aziraphale’s left hand, slouched low into the warm covers while Aziraphale sat up next to him, seemingly riveted in his book while patiently humouring Crowley’s fidgeting the way a single mother might tolerantly allow her child to twist a knot into her hair while she attempted to get some work done, because at least the distraction meant a quiet child. 

Crowley was adamant that as a demon he’d lost his ability to sense love. Spooky things he could smell a mile off, but love was a cold dark mystery to him now. And so, he basked quietly in the waves of it rolling off the angel beside him. Maybe he’d been lying and could sense love all along, or maybe it was just that it was directed at him with such dazzling brightness it was like a sledgehammer to the face. Despite this, he worried the feeling was so delicate it may snap should he voice the feeling aloud, so he kept quiet, pulsing his own fondness outward as he snaked his fingers around Aziraphale’s again. 

As he traced his way down his pinky finger, his path was blocked by a warm band of metal. Gold wings wrapped around the digit delicately, so perfectly it was almost as if the angel had been made with the ring already in place. Maybe he had, Crowley tried to think back to the very first time they’d met in this plane of existence, had the angel had the ring then? Had it been made with this corporeal being? That he couldn’t recall without asking aloud frustrated him, but he was reticent to disturb the thick quiet that enveloped them, so he kept the thought inside. 

He twisted the ring, half expecting it not to budge as if it really were a part of the angel’s very being, but it slid easily off. Aziraphale’s hand dropped lightly to rest on Crowley’s chest as Crowley’s attention switched to the curious piece of metal in his fingers. It was beautifully detailed, and though Crowley had only seen the physical manifestations of Aziraphale’s wings a handful of times in the last six thousand years, he was sure the ring was modelled off them exactly. 

He twisted the ring this way and that, studying the way the light reflected off it, the shadows curving down the edges of the individual feathers. He knew it was foolish to get attached to inanimate objects, why do you think he kept his flat so bare, but this tiny piece of metal between his fingers felt so, well, Aziraphale that he couldn’t help but stare at it, brushing a fingertip over it oh so gently. 

The ring was too big for Crowley’s pinky, so he dangled it on the end of his third finger, then tipped it upwards so it slithered down to the second knuckle. He pushed it the rest of the way and it slid into place perfectly, like it had always meant to be there, which was ridiculous because it had been made for Aziraphale not him. 

“It suits you, my dear,” Aziraphale’s soft words almost startled Crowley, who had been so enraptured at the sight of Aziraphale’s wings wrapped around his finger that he’d nearly forgotten he wasn’t alone. 

He tipped his head back on the pillows and found Aziraphale gazing down at him with such fondness he worried for a moment that his cold blackened heart may burst from the strain of it. It occurred to him distantly that Aziraphale’s book was on the bedside table now, and he had no idea how long Aziraphale had been watching him play with the ring. A faint blush crept its way up Crowley’s neck at having been caught. 

It was Aziraphale’s turn now to brush his fingers delicately over Crowley’s, rubbing over the ring as they went. He brought Crowley’s hand to his lips and pressed them softly to the knuckle just below the ring. 

“You should keep it,” He murmured, breath tickling the soft hairs on the back of Crowley’s hand. 

“You’d miss it,” Crowley protested weakly. 

“Then you shall have to stay close,”

Crowley knew he should make a quick comeback, but found his throat was suddenly tight, so he settled for swallowing hard and nodding, eyes fixed on the wings wrapped around his ring finger, Aziraphale’s warm weight pressed against him from shoulder to toe. 

“I will,” He said finally, half a promise, half a prayer.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't find the original post/comic this idea came from and it's 2am but you know the one, I'll try and find it tomorrow to credit
> 
> as part of my nanowrimo prep I'm doing a writing prompt a day, idk if I'll actually keep up with it or post any more of them but today's was "ring"


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